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Christmas in Candle Cove Page 2
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“Yes! I’ll go get them. You stay here,” he announced, crawling from his secluded hide-out.
She laughed. “Not a chance. It’s dark out there. You go put on your jacket while I get a flashlight.” Pulling on her boots, she grinned. How many other moms were out tonight digging carrots in the dark?
***
She leaned over the bed and planted a kiss on rosy, chubby cheeks. He was fast asleep. Otherwise, he would have brushed her kiss away. She smiled and adjusted the blanket, making sure his neck was covered. For now, he was still her baby, her little boy, but he was growing fast.
Heading out the door, she turned and gave one last look at her sleeping son. He was worn out tonight, but he would wake with enough energy to push a train down the tracks. He was a handful, that was for sure, but she wouldn’t want it any other way. Thank you, Harry Courtland, she whispered as she softly closed the door. Harry had given her a lot of love, but the best gift of all was Danny.
She picked up the top box and carried it to the pine table. Scissors in hand, she slit the packing tape that held the flaps shut. Folding back the cardboard and packing paper, her heart gave a small leap. Cookie jars. She pulled out more paper. Four of them! Two bears, one angel, and one Santa. What a great find. She took each one out and examined it carefully. Running her fingers along Santa’s beard, she felt no chips or irregularities. He was perfect, from his shiny red hat, down to his glossy black boots. The same with the blond and blue-eyed angel, its long yellow hair flowing down its back. She smiled back at the sweet expression on the angel’s face.
The brown bears were alike, but one smaller than the other. Maybe they were part of an old canister set, she guessed, adjusting the head on the smallest one. They were cute, but did not seal. Still, they would probably sell well this Christmas season. She could see them now, nestled in a basket full of candy canes.
Confident she was on a roll, she brought another box to the table.
Chapter 3
“I thought we could display them back here, on these shelves,” she told Willa, pulling another cookie jar from a box.
“Oh, they’re perfect, Ellie. What a great find!” Willa said, letting her fingers run over the black spectacles on Mrs. Claus’s face. “She and Santa ought to bring a nice price,” she said.
Ellie nodded. “I looked them up on the internet and they are rather hard to find. They are from the nineteen forties. Sort of made me giddy to know I’d made such a good purchase with those mystery boxes. I couldn’t believe it when I realized I had five boxes of them!”
“I think I have a cookie cutter like this one,” Willa said, holding the angel jar. “I’ll make some cookies to match her.”
“Great idea,” Ellie nodded, pulling the step ladder closer to the counter. “I’m going up, and you can hand them to me.”
“Hey there! That looks like my job,” Rory said, as he entered the store, his eyes on Ellie.
“Well, it might be if you bothered to show up on time,” Willa scolded. “We open at ten. It’s not like you had to be here at the crack of dawn. Now, it’s almost lunch time.”
“Hey, I had a flat,” Rory retorted, his freckled cheeks beginning to pink.
Ellie grinned. If she didn’t keep the peace, this red-headed boy would let his temper get the best of him. “It’s OK, you two. And I will let you put them up there, Rory.”
The bell over the door jangled again and they turned to see a young woman enter. Tall and willowy, her long blond hair was tied back from her well made-up face. The mink jacket she wore all but shouted the fact that she wasn’t a local woman.
“May I help you?” Ellie asked, coming from behind the counter.
The woman smiled, showing off a mouth of perfect white teeth. “I’m just looking.”
Ellie returned the smile. “Let me know if I can help you with anything.”
The customer nodded and headed toward the jam and candle section of the store.
“She looks like she could afford a lot of these cookie jars,” Willa whispered, as Ellie returned to the bakery area behind the counter.
Ellie nodded. Maybe, but the woman didn’t look like she’d had a cookie anytime recently. Maybe she was a model on her way to one of the winter fashion shows being sponsored at the mall in Fayetteville. She looked up to see Rory, his eyes on the customer instead of the fragile jars he was arranging. “Rory, watch what you are doing.”
He blushed and turned his attention to the shelves.
Ellie hid a smile. The woman was quite striking. No wonder the boy couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
In a few moments, the customer returned to the bakery area, holding two candles in her hands.
“I’d like to purchase these, as well as a dozen of your maple delight cookies,” she said, her eyes roving the shelves of cookies.
Rory was down from the ladder at once. “I’ll take those on over to the cash register for you,” he smiled, taking the items from her.
However, the customer did not follow him. Instead, her eyes were on Ellie. “I wanted to ask you about that doll in the back. The one in the crib. My mother collects them and I know she would love that one, but it doesn’t seem to have a price on it.”
“I know the one you mean,” Ellie said, taking the sack of cookies from Willa and coming from behind the counter. “But it’s not for sale. It’s been in my family too long to part with it.”
The woman assumed a disappointed expression. “I do wish you’d change your mind. Pretty please?”
Ellie laughed and handed the cookies to her. “Sorry.”
“Well,” she said, pulling a card from her purse. “If you change your mind, here’s my card.”
This woman really wasn’t giving up. Ellie took it and read the name and address. Marisa Williams, Memphis TN. Her phone number was printed underneath. Memphis. This woman was a long way from home.
The old cash register rang as Rory completed her purchase. “Come back soon,” he grinned, with a little more enthusiasm than Ellie approved of.
“I’m in love,” he announced in a dreamy voice, the moment the door closed behind her.
“Don’t you think she’s a little old for you?” Willa asked, heading into the kitchen as the timer sounded.
“Hey, I like older women!” he called after her.
Ellie walked to the front window and stared out as the woman got into a vintage silver Corvette and pulled toward the north side of town. Memphis. Wasn’t that where Gabe Chandler lived? Or was it Nashville?
Chapter 4
An extra beat pounded in his chest when his eyes met hers. Her dark hair, always worn long when she was a teenager, had been cut in a choppy, carefree fashion. Her cheeks bloomed red from the heat of the oven, and her blue eyes were bright and happy. She looked scarcely older than the last time he’d seen her, ten years ago.
She hesitated a moment before she spoke. “Hello, Gabe.”
He swallowed. The brightness in her eyes had been replaced with uncertainty. Did the sight of him bring back bad memories? No doubt he had handled the situation between them rather poorly. She had deserved better from him.
He had been unreasonable and obstinate with her desire to leave Fayetteville and move home to give comfort to her grieving grandmother. In hindsight, he had been a selfish young man thinking only of himself. Ultimately, it had caused their permanent breakup. And now it seemed too late to say he had been wrong. An apology would mean nothing at this tardy date. Too much water had passed under that rickety old bridge.
“Hello, Ellie. I. . .didn’t realize that you worked here,” he said, letting his eyes wander around the large shop. Marisa was right. It was a nice place. He was impressed that such a store existed in Candle Cove.
She smiled and put the sheet of cookies on the wooden counter. Taking up a spatula, she began to scoop each cookie on to a cooling rack. “I don’t just work here, I own it. I’ve been open almost four years, now.”
Four years? Why had his mother never mentioned that
Ellie had opened a business in town? He mustered his best smile. “It’s very nice. You’ve done well for yourself. I just. . .well, I…” He winced. His words sounded trite, insincere, like a pat compliment he offered to anyone in polite company. If she picked up on his thoughts, it didn’t show in her face.
***
“Thank you.” If she didn’t stop him, the poor man was going to strangle on his own words. Why was he so nervous after all of these years? OK. . . To be fair, her own heart was beating a little faster than normal. Well, he had been a nice looking young man, and he was still a good looking man, same dark hair, and grin that sent her heart into a flip-flop.
And he was Gabe, the guy she had planned to spend her life with. Her heart slowed a little at that thought. There was a time when he had been everything that she had wanted. But all that had changed when she’d realized his true feelings about Candle Cove, and the life she had imagined for the two of them together.
It was her dream to live here, raise her family in the same town where they had grown up. But not Gabe, his plan had been to get as far away from home as possible. And had it made him happy? It was none of her business, but she would like to know.
She finished with the cookies and put the empty pan on the bar behind her, wiping her hands on a soft cotton towel. “Were you looking for something particular? Maybe a gift for your mom?”
He blinked. “Mom? Oh, no, just. . .well, my girlfriend, Marisa, came in here yesterday. She said you had a doll displayed that she’d like to buy, but it’s not for sale.” He grinned. “I told her I would try to use my influence to change the shop owners’ mind. Of course, when I made the promise, I didn’t realize who I would be up against. I know my limits when I try to bump heads with a strong-willed woman.”
Ellie bit her tongue for a moment. Was he saying that she was stubborn? As if he was not? She took a deep breath and walked from behind the counter. So the blond woman that had left such an impression on Rory was Gabe’s girlfriend. Somehow, she didn’t seem his type. But maybe he had changed.
“I know the doll you mean,” she pointed to the crib in the back. “It was my great-grandmother’s doll, a gift from her uncle in France. I’m sorry, but it’s not for sale, Gabe. I’m just using it as a display. I could never sell it.” She had explained that to Marisa, but apparently the woman wasn’t ready to take no for an answer.
He smiled and nodded. “I understand. She’ll just have to find one somewhere else.”
“Are you here for Thanksgiving?” A guess, since the day was still almost a week away. His mother had related to her recently that he was rarely home and hadn’t been home for Thanksgiving or Christmas for the last three years. She must be overjoyed that her son was here for a few days.
Gabe nodded. “I’ve got some time off, so I thought I’d come help mom out for a while. I’ll be here through New Year’s Day, if nothing pressing comes up.”
Her heart thumped. That was a long visit home. Had something in Gabe changed? Was he finally starting to see the value of his roots? “I know your mom must be tickled that you are home. She misses you.”
He sighed and tucked his thumbs into his belt loops. “I know. It’s taken me so long to build my career that I’ve ignored some of the more important things in my life. Like her. And that’s why I’m here, for as long as I can be. I want her to know how much I care about her, and I know it’s impossible to do, but I’m trying to make up for lost time. And, I want Marisa to see that there’s more to me than just a career chaser. She needs to know that I can be a family man, as well.”
“So, you’re engaged to her? Congratulations!” She should have known. Marisa hadn’t struck her as the family type, but possibly she had misjudged the woman. Underneath all that make-up and stylish, expensive exterior, there might be a motherly heart. Besides, who was she to judge? Her own life was nothing more than a juggling act most of the time. Running a business and being a full time mom was hard work. Marisa would have Gabe to help her, once they started their family.
He held up his hand, as if to stop her from saying more. “No. No engagement. At least, not yet.”
The ‘yet’ in his voice was obvious. She gestured toward one of the two small tables by the bakery corner. “If you’ve got time, sit down and have some coffee.”
He hesitated for a moment. “Sure.”
He seemed to relax as he took a seat and she set the coffee cup in front of him. “Just a second,” she said, going behind the counter and bringing out a small plate of cookies.
He grinned. “We had some of these last night. They are very good,” he complimented, reaching for one with extra sugar.
She sat down and took a sip of her own coffee. “I know. Willa Baxter makes them. She’s usually here, along with my college-aged handyman, Rory. Willa’s mom and stepfather were killed by a drunk driver two years ago, so she quit college and is raising her eight year-old twin sisters. One of them is sick this afternoon.”
“Poor kid,” he nodded. “That’s a pretty tough road ahead for all of them.” He cleared his throat and his eyes met hers. “I’m sorry about Harry, Ellie. I. . .I didn’t hear about it until a few months after it happened. Not that that’s an excuse. . .”
She nodded. “That’s OK.” She hadn’t expected to hear from him. He hadn’t been a part of her life for many years.
He shifted his gaze to the dark liquid in his cup. “I’ve interviewed a lot of soldiers these past few years. It’s a hard life for them and their families.”
This conversation was heading down a trail she didn’t want to travel. “You’ve seen a lot of the world. It must be an exciting career for you,” she said, taking a bite of her cookie. Maybe he would give her some insight on how much he enjoyed traveling. It had been his dream and it had come true for him.
His eyes met hers again, happier this time. “It has been good. But. . .I think I’m about ready to stay home a little more, settle in one place.”
“And I guess that Memphis is home, now?” she asked.
He appeared to hesitate. “Possibly. With freelancing, and another option I may have, if things work out, I can pretty much pick and choose where I want to live. As long as there’s an airport within driving distance. So, big city, countryside, or small town. It’s something I have to think about.”
She nodded. So maybe she was right, and Gabe was ready to put down some roots.
“And what about you?” he asked. “Looks like you’ve done well for yourself.” His eyes traveled around the old store, taking in the tables of antiques and rows of candles and jam.
Ellie put her cup on the table. “I’m doing all right. I pretty much started the business out of desperation, but I’ve come to love it. I have loyal employees, as well as customers. And I like that I’ve kept this old building alive.”
He grinned. “Yeah, I remember we used to peer inside the windows when we were kids. It was a shame Bellow’s closed after the big grocery store opened out on the highway. I missed stopping by here for a soda or candy after school.”
She nodded and looked around the huge room, admiring the original wood floors and walls. And the high ceiling, baskets hanging from the rafters, was an added plus to the ambience of the store. “It’s a nice old piece of architecture. A good part of Candle Cove’s history.”
The bell over the door jangled and they both turned to look at the customer that walked in. Ellie recognized the tall, spindly man at once. His picture had appeared in The Candle Cove Observer multiple times over the past few weeks. And it was a true likeness to the man.
Bart Sinclair, appointed heir of the old Sinclair mansion, matched his photograph perfectly. Dressed completely in black, with his long, thin black hair straggling down his back, and hawk-like nose, he reminded her of a vampire.
She struggled to keep the surprise from her expression. Her business hardly seemed the sort of place that an important man like Mr. Sinclair would shop. She pushed her chair from the table and stood. “Good afternoon, may I help you?
”
He smiled, but his blue eyes remained cold. “I know we’ve never met, but my name is Bart Sinclair. I own the old Sinclair house. I assume that you are Ellie Courtland?”
She nodded. “Yes, I am. I recognize you from your picture in the paper. As you can imagine, it’s big news around the town.”
A grimace crossed his face, and his icy eyes remained hard. Ellie felt a slight shiver run down her spine. She didn’t know much about him, but something in his demeanor bothered her.
“I guess it is, with all those people out there sticking their noses into my business,” he said. “But that’s what small towns are like. Full of busybodies.”
Exactly how did one respond to a statement like that? “I see.” She noticed that Gabe had remained seated, but he had turned his chair, and was looking at Mr. Sinclair.
“What I’m here about, Mrs. Courtland, are some items that you bought from my great uncle several years ago. I understand that you made quite a few purchases.”
His dark gaze was unsettling. In fact she was beginning to tremble. Get a hold of yourself, Ellie. “Yes, I did. But I sold them years ago. That’s why I bought them. . .for the shop, I mean.” If her voice started to wobble, she would be giving him the upper hand.
The man cleared his throat before his deep voice sounded again. “I’d like to buy them back. So, if you’d just supply me with the names of the buyers, I’ll be on my way.”
Taken aback, Ellie faltered for a moment. The man had a lot of nerve. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t do that. I can’t give out customer names. Not that I can remember that many of them, anyway. It has been several years, now. Other than the desk I bought for myself—”
His words were quick and sharp. “Desk? You have my uncle’s desk?”